It started with a knock. It was four in the morning and there was a knock on the door. Ordinarily something like that wouldn’t have even made me stir, never mind actually wake me up. There was something odd about this knock, it was much louder than a normal knock. Even weirder is that it was just a single knock. No rapid tapping, no door bell, no “shave and a haircut” knock, just one single house-shakingly loud knock.
I immediately sat up, feeling hungover from the night of partying and debauchery, thinking that maybe it was one of my friends who just needed a place to crash. I got out of bed, wrapped a robe around myself and proceeded to the door. When I opened it, to my surprise there was no one there. I looked around but the street was dead. The whole neighbourhood was dead in the chilly winter night.
Did I imagine the knock? Was it part of the dream I was having? Did I take too long to answer the door and they left? I swear, it wasn’t more than a minute from hearing the knock to getting to the door. Oh well. I decided to go back to sleep.